


Dreams, Demons, and Other Worlds

by MaxxSummers



Category: Gotham (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Hope you enjoy my messed up head, M/M, Most involve fandoms or something but some won't, None are really connected but if they are I'll let you know, Other, my dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7142888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxxSummers/pseuds/MaxxSummers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of my weird dreams and random short stories that pop into my head. Many involve fictional characters or celebrities; however, some will not. The style of writing I choose to use will vary from story to story. Honestly, this collection is just a way for me to get used to the website and share my weird dreams. I hope you enjoy the weirdest parts of my mind. This will be updated randomly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Occurrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dream with Mickey Milkovich and a rather strange occurrence.

I'm not sure exactly what happened, just that things in the world weren't good; however, for me the world was perfect.

I lived in a small house about a few miles away from the big city. The house was pretty run down, having no locks, dirty windows, small rooms, and ruined wooden floors. I had no appliances, and cracks in the walls created terrible designs that kept me up at night. The house was a disaster, but it was free so it was good. Unfortunately, the outside world was a different story.

The outside world was going insane due to a large occurrence in the big city. Some people called the occurrence a blessing while other called it a curse; however, it terrified me, although I would always say I didn't care about it. The occurrence was far enough away to not effect me other than more people than usual passing by my house in order to see it, but it was so close I felt if I reached out far enough I could touch it. This occurrence was something the world had never seen, and millions of people flocked to it for a chance of fortune and fame. 

The occurrence was tall, reaching so far up into the sky that is disappeared into the clouds surrounding it. It gave off an orange light each moment of the day, daring anyone to come close to its circulating mass of objects. No one was sure if it was sucking in the objects it had or if it was throwing them out. Although, it didn't seem to matter what this tornado-like mass was doing as it attracted many from across the world. Unfortunately, it didn't attract me. I continued to stay in my small home, refusing to go and steal the riches of others. It wasn't until late one night when things changed.

I was sitting in a small room with my grandmother, who had decided to stay the night on her way home. The small red radio was on, quietly playing the classic hits from throughout time. I was sitting in a beat up wooden chair, desperately trying to light a cigarette with one of the few matches I had left. I was exhausted from attempting to repair some of the damages to my home, but the bright orange light shining through the windows made it difficult to sleep. My grandmother and I talked about our lives, how we missed each other, and how we both had regrets in our lives.

"You should go, y'know," she said after about an hour of talking. "Make a life for yourself."

"Nah," I replied. "There's nothing for me there. And I doubt I would be one of the few lucky ones to make myself rich."

"Honey, you already let so many opportunities pass you by. You could have been anything you wanted, done anything you wanted, but you're living here with no money and no job."

"But I'm free," I replied. "I don't have any debt and I don't have to do what anyone says. I'm finally happy."

I put out what was left of my third cigarette for the night and hugged my grandmother goodnight, going into the living room to sleep on the couch. I thought throughout most of the night, thinking about the occurrence a few miles away from my home. I hated to admit it, but my grandmother was right. I could make a life for myself, and even if I don't get anything I can't lose anything. No one wanted my home, and there was nothing in it worth anything. Besides, the trip was three days at the most, and I was getting tired of living in squalor, so the next day I left.

I packed a few changes of clothes, a couple bottles of water, cigarettes, a can on soup, and what little money I had in one of my old backpacks before setting off to start a new life. The first couple of hours went okay: the heat was bothering me a bit and I realized I had forgotten my matches, but overall everything went well. It wasn't until the fourth hour of my walk when I realized just how difficult it would be to get into the big city. 

Thousands of people were desperately trying to get past the security gates, and many went to desperate measures to get in first. This resulted in me not being able to get into the city until midnight, losing my cigarettes in the process. The massive buildings blocked most of the light. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't planned as much as I needed to, and every hotel was full up until January. With my feet tired and my eyelids getting heavy, I decided to go to the occurrence. I was nearly there, too, when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into an alley.

"Trust me," he said, "You don't wanna go there."

The man was short, only standing a few inches taller than myself. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, and he looked as if he'd been wearing the same clothes for days. His hair was black and pushed back. He looked like he could easily murder almost anyone he wanted, but for some reason he came across as safe.

"You wanna smoke?" he asked, holding out a cigarette.

"How do you know what I want?" I replied.

"You smell like you smoke," he said. "So you wanna or not?"

"I'm talking about the...thing a few blocks away."

"Because I've been there and, trust me, it's not what it seems. So you wanna smoke?"

I agreed, taking the cigarette as he lit it for me.

"How did you get these?" I asked. "They take them away at the security gates."

"I live here," he replied. "I'm Mickey. C'mon, I'll show you around."

I followed him for a few blocks. We were heading away from the occurrence, but I didn't really mind. I could visit it tomorrow anyways. 

"And here is where the fun is!" Mickey said.

He threw what was left of his cigarette in a nearby bush. I did the same before following him into a large building. The inside was dark,but lights from many games and signs lit up the room. I followed him around like a lost dog, moving closer to him whenever one of the men there would call out to me or him. The others said he was bad, and I had a death wish for hanging around him, but I remained by his side. We stayed at the arcade until the sun began to rise, then we left.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing my arm and leading me towards the occurrence. "I need to show you something."

We walked back to the place we met the night before, at least, that's what he said. Although I knew the alley would look different in the light of day, this place was not an alley. In fact, it looked like a carnival. Thousands of what appeared to be gold paper littered the ground and the small stand before us. The stand itself was run down, and all the prizes had been ruined and scattered on the ground, but golden objects took their place.

"This is what the storm does," Mickey said. "It expands, and it destroys anything that isn't of great value, including people."

I reached down to pick up a gold slip, but Mickey caught my arm.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said. "You'll get us both killed. The storm likes to give to some, but if you take from it it will kill you."

"I need to get home," I said, backing away from him. "I need to go before anyone tries to steal anything."

"I'll come with you."

"No!" I replied. "I just, I need to be alone for a while."

"And what, you're gonna do that with all the people on the streets?"

"I just, I have to go."

And with that final sentence, I ran. I ran until I could no longer hear or see Mickey. I ran to the security checkpoints where they said they hoped I had a pleasant stay. I ran past the thousands of people surrounding me, and I ran until I could run without someone yelling at me to get out of their way. I ran until I reached the small dirt lot I called a yard. I ran until I threw my bag down and collapsed on the couch, tears daring to spill from my eyes.

I did not cry

I laid on the couch, my head screaming for being such a fool. I wanted out, and the occurrence was nothing more than false hope. I felt miserable, like an idiot for even thinking I would be different from the millions of people who thought they could get something from the huge mass. I fucked up my life, and I had to accept that, but I also lost the only chance I had of a friend. Still, I did not cry. I could not cry. I had to move on with my life and survive, so I did not cry. Instead, I fell asleep.

I'm not entirely sure how much time passed, but what I did know was that one night I heard someone creeping around my house. It didn't take long before I saw their shadows, and I immediately knew who they were. I jumped up from the couch and grabbed a knife from the nearby counter, walking towards the door as one of the trespasser's face became visible.

"Go away!" I yelled, tightening my grip on the knife.

"We just need a place to stay for the night!" my aunt yelled. "We're going to the city. We're your family. You owe us at least that!"

"I don't owe you shit!" I replied.

"If your mom was here she would make you," my cousin said.

"Well she's not here, and it's my house so get the fuck away from me before I kill you both."

"I'm calling the cops!" my aunt yelled. "You have no right to threaten us!"

A gunshot pierced through the air, and my aunt and cousin ran. I remained still, my heart pounding in my chest as I looked around for any sign of a person. I raised the knife before slowly backing up. My door was thrown open, and a short man with slicked back black hair and a cigarette in his mouth walked towards me

"Those people botherin' you?" Mickey asked, putting the gun down on the old table in front of the couch.

"How'd you find me?" I asked, lowering the knife.

"I followed you. Saw those two idiots creepin' around your place so I hung around for a bit. Guess it was a good thing."

I nodded, sighing and looking around my home. 

"You want to stay the night?" I asked. "I have some extra blankets, and I can sleep on the couch if you want."

"Yeah, sure," Mickey said. "Why not?"

I nodded and rushed to the back of the house to get the blankets out of the closet. They were thin, and slightly torn, but none of my others were much better. I walked back into the living room to see Mickey hanging the blankets that had been on the couch over the windows and doorway.

"Those creeps were trying to look in, and I didn't want 'em botherin' you in the middle of the night," he said. 

I nodded, placing the blankets on the table.

"What if they have knives, or guns?" I asked, more to myself than anything.

"We're both sleepin' in here tonight," he said, putting out his cigarette. 

The room was now dark, the only light being from a few small tears in the blankets. Mickey took the blankets on the table and laid them out on the floor before taking his shirt off and laying down, motioning for me to do the same. I laid a few feet away from him, staring at the ceiling.

"No, come here," he said, holding his arm out.

I sighed and moved closer to him, his arm around me. I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point through the night my arms ended up around his waist and my head on his chest. His skin was soft, and the small layer of fat over his muscles made him comfortable to lay on. He was warm, and the body heat made up for the thin blankets. 

Chaos thrived in the world around us, consuming everyone...except us. I didn't sleep much that night -- who would if a couple of psychos were trying to have them killed? -- but I felt safe next to him. For the first time in my life, I didn't fear anything. I never felt peace like that before -- never been that calm. Unfortunately, it wasn't long until I was once again thrown back into the chaos and panic that rules my life every day.


	2. A Night You'll Never Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream I had about Jerome and the Maniax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short, but my dog woke me up before I finished my dream and I fell back asleep before I wrote any of it down so I don't remember a lot. Oh well   
>  \--Maxx

“Maaaaxx,” Jerome called in a sing-song voice, his shoes clicking against the concrete floor.

I crawled between two crates, holding my breath as Aaron Helzinger walked past where I was sitting. I sighed as he turned to another aisle. I was an idiot for getting myself into this mess, and for what? To try and stop a group of psychos from killing some dogs and a few cats? Why I decided risking my life for a bunch of worthless animals was a good idea I don’t know, but what I did know the chance of me getting out of here alive was very slim.

I crawled from my hiding place and walked down the aisle, quickly ducking behind one of the crates as Dobkins ran past the aisle. I tightened my grip on my gun as I walked to the end and turned the corner.

“Boo!” Jerome yelled.

I turned to run, but the Maniax leader grabbed my hair and slammed my head into one of the crates. I whined as he did it again before throwing me to the ground, my gun slipping out of my grasp. I desperately reached for it, but he placed his foot on the back of my neck before I could reach it.

“You know, I thought you would be more fun than that,” he said, removing his foot from my neck and instead crouching in front of me. “What a disappointment.” 

“Fuck you,” I hissed, glaring up at him.

He tilted his head, smiling as he said,” You really wanted to go out with a bang don’t you?” His smile fell. “Looks like you lost your chance.”

I took my knife from my jacket and stabbed his leg.

“You stupid bitch!” he yelled before breaking into laughter.

I jumped up and ran, quickly weaving my way between crates to get as much space between Jerome and myself. I left my gun, not that I could get to it even if I wanted to. That crazy ginger had been in my way, and, even though it was the last chance of me getting out of here alive, there was nothing I could do about it.

I ran around the warehouse, desperate to find an exit. My throat was dry and my legs were aching when I saw it. It wasn’t an exit, or even another room, but a large screen with a room above it. The screen was playing Jerome’s video of himself after the massacre at the GCPD, but seeing the arrogant psycho covered in blood on the giant screen wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that directly above the screen, looking through the window, was Jerome himself, and he was staring directly at me.  
“If you’re looking for the exit, Maxie,” he said, his voice filling the entire warehouse. “Try going to your right, but you better hurry. My people are already on their way.”

His laugh came over the speakers. I turned to my right and ran faster than I ever had in my life. It wasn’t until I heard Greenwood yell at me that I realized this wouldn’t be easy at all. I quickly changed my route, finding my way back to where I was headed as quickly as possible. Luckily for me, or perhaps unfortunately, Greenwood decided to follow me instead of trying to cut me off; however, I was faster than him and quickly left him behind. It wasn’t long until I saw the huge doors of the warehouse, already open. I ran out into the warm night, rain hitting my face and my back.

“Keep running, Max!” Jerome said over the speakers, laughing. “This will be a night you’ll never forget!”

I turned away from the exit, running behind the warehouse so the Maniax couldn't see me. Lighting was the only thing to light my way as I ran through the mud sucking at my shoes. It wasn’t until I began to climb the hill behind the warehouse that I began to feel my body growing tired. My clothes were wet from the cool rain, but they quickly grew hot and sticky as I climbed the hill slick with mud. The sound of thunder and rain filled my head as I desperately tried to reach the top of the hill, but collapsed only halfway there.

“I found the prize!”

I froze, looking over my shoulder as Dobkins began to climb the hill. I panicked, crawling forward as the mud gave way underneath me and I slid back down. It wasn’t long until the psycho had me in his grasp, laughing and babbling nonsense as he pulled me to the bottom of the hill. I kicked and hit him to the best of my ability, but he only laughed.

“Hey, asshole!”

A knife sunk into Dobkin’s neck, blood quickly pouring from the wound as the red substance oozed out his mouth. I threw him off of me, looking up at my savior. The teenage girl stared down at me, her curly hair protected from the rain by a black hood.

“What are you-”

“Come on!” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. “We don’t have all day!”

She began climbing the hill. I climbed after her, and we reached the top before any of the other Maniax spotted us; however, once they did they began to climb the slippery hill. I looked around, desperate to find a way out, but I only found a tall fence topped with barbed wire. The girl sighed and grabbed my arm, guiding me to the left side of the building and pulled me down behind some crates.  
“Who are you?” I asked.

“Cat,” she replied. “But we don’t have time for that. I need to find someone.”

“Who?”

“A friend.”

Cat looked around before quickly dragging me behind another pile of crates. She kept doing this until we could see the front of the building. It was just then that I realized there was another screen, only this one seemed to be playing a live video from the elevated room in the warehouse. I didn’t have much time to stare at Jerome’s haunting face before Cat pulled me behind another pile of crates, this time the crates having a man behind them.

“Selina?” the man asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you really think I would let Bruce come here alone at get himself killed?” she snapped.

“Well, considering you allowed him to come here in the first place I wouldn’t be very surprised if you did.”

“Just shut up and watch him, Alfred,” she said, motioning to me. “I’m going to go find Bruce.”

“Oh no you’re not,” Alfred replied, grabbing the girl’s arm. “You’re staying right here while-”

He fell over, a bullet in his head. Cat swore and ran, leaving me alone behind the crates. I looked to the screen, watching as Jerome was laughing as if he just heard the best joke the world had ever told. There was no way I was getting out of here alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about turning this one into a full story. It would have more details and would not seem as rushed. Any thoughts? Yes or No?  
>  \--Maxx


	3. Dalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dream I had with Mickey Milkovich, Arnold Dobkins, and Cameron Monaghan.

“Dalia!” I yelled as my friend slammed on the breaks for what seemed like the hundredth time. “What the hell are you doing?”

“We can’t get too close, or he’ll be suspicious,” she replied, once again moving the car forward.

“And you don’t think he’ll find you randomly stopping in the middle of the road suspicious?”

“Well considering we’ve been following him for two days, I think he already finds us suspicious.”

I groaned, slamming my head on the dashboard. I stayed there for a few minutes until I heard the old car speed up.

“Why are we even following him?” I asked.

“Cameron hired me to,” she replied.

“And I’m with you because?”

“I’m paying you, and I thought I would get bored if I was alone.”

I shook my head, watching as the distance between ourselves and the blue van grew smaller. We took a sharp turn, and I held onto my seat like that would help if Dalia lost control of the speeding car and we tumbled down the cliff to our left. I sighed as we went back to a straight road and went back to looking out the window.

If we weren’t stalking someone, I would have loved to be here. To my right there was a cliff reaching up into the sky, and trees grew on many of the ledges. To the left I could see for miles between the breaks in the trees. A small town sat in the valley below us, and surrounding it were fields of livestock and crops, along with many trees. This felt like home to me, even if I had never lived somewhere like this.

Dalia swore, slamming on the breaks. I looked forward and saw the blue van had stopped, but we continued to move steadily towards it.

“Stop the fucking car!” I screamed.

“I’m trying!” she yelled.

I watched as our car grew dangerously close to the blue van, then I closed my eyes. I didn’t open them until I heard a car door slam shut. Dalia swore, unbuckling her seat belt. I quickly did the same, opening my door as Mickey Milkovich walked towards us.

“Stay in the fucking car!” he yelled, pointing a gun at us. 

I slowly stepped back in the car and closed my door, watching as Mickey walked over to Dalia’s window. He tapped on the glass, raising his eyebrows as he motioned for her to roll it down. 

“Don’t,” I mumbles, closing my eyes, but she ignored me and did as he told her to.

“Just so you know, the cops are on their way,” he said.

“Mickey Mikovich calling the cops?” Dalia said. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“If it means you and your little boyfriend get arrested, then why the fuck not.” He shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just kill us?”

“Dalia!” I hissed, hitting her arm.

Mickey laughed. “Don’t worry, Spikey, I ain’t gonna kill you. That wouldn’t be as fun.”

“Fuck you,” Dalia hissed.

“You better keep your fucking mouth shut before I put a bullet in it. You got that?” 

“Max, run,” Dalia said.

“What?”

Dalia grabbed Mickey’s gun, screaming, “Run!”

I jumped out of the car, grabbing my jacket before running down the street. Dalia would find a way out -- she always did. It wasn’t until I heard a gunshot that I began to worry, but it was too late to go back now. I could already hear sirens approaching quickly, and all I could do is run.

“You better run, Spikey!” Mickey yelled as the road turned, blocking me from his view. “And hope they fucking find you before I do!”

I’m not sure exactly how -- maybe I ran all the way, or got a ride -- but the next morning I was standing outside my house. I had long before put my jacket on and pulled the hood over my head to avoid anyone who could possibly recognize me. I was covered in sweat, but considering the circumstances it wasn’t really surprising.

I stood outside my house for a few minutes, enjoying the cool, cloudy morning. I wanted to go inside and take care of my dogs, eat something, and get some sleep before I went to find whoever Cameron was, but Dalia was sure to have told the cops my name by now, and this would be the first place they checked.

Instead of continuing to stand outside my house, I walked down the street. It was early, and no one was out yet. I stayed on the street until I reached my friend’s house, quietly walking in. The living room was empty, only old furniture to accompany me, so I went into his room. As I expected, he was asleep, and his nephew was sleeping in the beside him.

“Dee,” I whispered, tapping his shoulder. “Dee, wake up.”

“What?” he mumbled, rolling over so his face was buried in the pillow.

“I fucked up, dude.”

Dee sighed, sitting up and glaring at me before saying, “You abandon me, and now you want me to help you?”

“I didn’t abandon you just because I refuse to go to the rec center anymore,” I said. “Dude it’s the cops. Dalia dragged me with her and, dude they think I was stalking this guy!”

“Who?”

“Mickey Milkovich.”

“Who?”

“Some guy Dalia’s friend wanted her to keep an eye on,” I replied. “Look, I know it sounds bad, but I didn’t even realize we were following the dude until it was too late for me to just walk home.”

“Why didn’t you call someone?” he asked.

“I didn’t have any money or my phone, and I had no idea where we were.”

He sighed. “You’re stupid.”

“Yes, I know. Can I just take a shower and borrow your car?”

“Fuck no, bitch,” he replied. “You got yourself in this mess, you get yourself out.”

“Please! Just for a few hours, then I’ll call you and tell you where to pick it up.”  
“I thought you said you didn’t have any money.”

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair.

“Just, go take a shower,” he said. “I’ll see if I can drive you out of state, but you owe me.”

“Yeah yeah, I know,” I said. “Thanks.”

Dee scoffed, and I took that as a sign to hurry up with whatever I was going to do, so I went to the bathroom. I undressed and quickly got in the shower, not bothering to wash my hair as I didn’t want it looking fucked up if all the hair product washed out, so I just washed my body instead. I was just beginning to rinse off when the shower curtain was pulled open.

“You’re going to hurry up, get dressed, and get your ass out of my house,” Dee’s mom said. “He ain’t taking you nowhere, and you’re not taking his car.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said.

She pulled the shower curtain shut. I stood there for a few moments before quickly rinsing off and stepping out of the shower. I threw my clothes back on before walking out of the bathroom. Dee grabbed my arm, shoving a roll of cash in my hand, along with his car key.

“It’s three hundred,” he said. “Don’t tell my mom I gave it to you. You know Arny?”

I nodded.

“Drive down to his house, and leave my car there. He has a truck for you. Now go.”

“Thanks,” I said, shoving the money in my jacket pocket before walking out the door.

I went to his car and drove off, hoping his mom didn’t realize I had taken it until I was at Arnold’s place. By the time I had arrived it was beginning to get dark, and I had already spent over fifty of the three hundred dollars Dee gave me on gas and food.

“You Max?” Arnold asked, walking over as I parked the car.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Truck is fifty,” he said. “It’s in good condition.”

I sighed, stepping out of the car and handing him fifty dollars and Dee’s keys. Arnold laughed, grabbing my arm and beginning to drag me down the street.

“You must be starving,” he said. “And I know a great place!”

I followed Dobkins to the restaurant. At first glance it seemed normal, but once we were seated I realized just how prestigious it was. The waiters were dressed in suits, and the tables had gold trim. The carpet was blood red, and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling.

Dobkins ordered a steak while I ordered lasagna. We ate and talked. He seemed normal at first, but the more I got to know him the more he began to seem creepy. It didn’t surprise me that Dee had stopped communicating with him for more than work a few years ago.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and rushing out of the room.

I quickly stood, following after him and just catching sight of him as he walked out of the restaurant. I followed the small path outside the building, hoping to find him. It was too dark to see much, and the only light came from the moon and the windows of the small building.

“Max!” a woman’s voice called out to me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You know, Arnold is waiting for you back at his place. Why don’t I give you a ride?”

The woman was tall, at least she was compared to me, which isn’t saying much. She wore a white shirt with a brown skirt and a jacket to match. Her black heels clicked along the pavement as she walked next to me, placing a firm grip on my arm. It was then that I saw her gun.

“Yeah, sounds great,” I said, pulling my arm away from her. “Let me just go and pay for the meal.”

I walked back to the restaurant, hoping I had enough money to pay. I checked my wallet and found a couple of fifties, a few twenties, and some other notes. I walked to the front desk, the man on the other side eyeing me as if I was a robber.

“How much?” I asked.

“You’re date payed for it,” the man replied. 

“He wasn’t my date,” I said.

The woman grabbed my arms, and before I could register what was happening I was in line to get my bed number at a correctional facility. Men and women walked around in white clothes. The beds were small and close to the ground, a blue blanket and a white pillow being the only things on them. I recognized a few people, but with Dee as my best friend it was really no surprise.

“Maxx?” Ulla said, walking over to me. “Boy, what you doin’ here?”  
“I don’t know,” I replied.

“Well there’s some hot dudes here,” she said, laughing and flicking out her tongue. “I call dibs on the blond!”

“Summers!”

I nodded yo Ulla, walking over to the woman handing out uniforms.

“Number fourteen,” she said. “Back of the room.”

I nodded, taking the plain white clothes and finding my bed. When I got there, a man was already sitting on it. His eyes were red and watery. He was thin, but muscular, and his hair was a fiery color.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down. “This is my bed. Who the hell are you?”

“Cameron,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. “Cameron Monaghan. Dalia’s friend.”

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled, standing up. “You’re the fucking reason I’m even in here!”

 

“I’m sorry!” he cried, laying down on my bed and curling into a fetal position. “I’m so sorry!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes and sitting down before any more attention got drawn to us, although many people were too busy with their own conversations to even notice. Cameron grabbed my arm, mumbling things about how he was sorry and how his entire life was ruined. I pulled my arm away, but it only made things worse. Eventually, I gave in.

“It’s okay,” I said, running my fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. Don’t cry.”


End file.
